


Emma’s Favorite Christmas Memory

by JuiceCup



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, S1 Swan Queen, holiday fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-09-17 06:36:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9309740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JuiceCup/pseuds/JuiceCup
Summary: It’s the night before Christmas and Regina is trying to reconnect with her 10 year old son, Henry, when the doorbell rings.  She is less than thrilled to discover that her surprise visitor is Sheriff Emma Swan.Emma wanted to check on Regina and Henry, before she headed home for the night, but she can't help how inviting the inside of Regina’s house feels from the cold stoop outside.  When the Mayor suggests that she come in, Emma can’t resist taking her up on the offer.This is a take on what would have happened if Emma and Regina had actually spent their first Christmas Eve together during Season 1.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Aww, Season 1 Swan Queen. This was inspired by a few prompts that I got during the Holidays. I am sorry that I didn’t get to all of them but hopefully I can work on a few during the year. Enjoy this ficlet, even though it’s January! LOL! Have a great weekend, Swen!

A soft glow from the living room’s hearth bathed the room in warm tones of gold, an attractive accompaniment to the already twinkling lights of the Christmas tree.  Regina Mills, mayor of Storybrooke, willed herself to relax as she held a crystal tumbler of her own homemade Apple cider.  She watched while her ten-year old son, Henry, fiddled with his red and green Christmas stocking filled to the brim with gifts.  He had never understood that she doted on him in her own way, and had given him everything in hopes to gladden his heart.  She thought they had been happy until the fateful day he discovered that he was adopted.  Since then, he had slowly pulled away from her, both emotionally and physically.  It broke Regina’s heart, but she treated it like she had all her other disappointments.  She waged on, sometimes in an awful temper that she regretted because it seemed to only distance him further away.

 

“Are you excited for tomorrow, Henry?”  She referenced Christmas morning with a broad smile, remembering Christmases past where he woke her up in an ecstatic commotion, dragging her out of bed so they could open gifts together and share what Santa Claus might have brought them.  She hoped for the same reaction this year but was doubtful that she would get it.

 

A shrug was his only answer.  He tightened his robe and looked down at the fireplace.  He must still be upset with her for dragging him away from that Swan woman earlier today.

 

_Emma Swan._

 

Regina quietly snorted into her drink.  His _real_ mother.  She chastised herself abruptly.  Nonsense!  She was his real mother.  Regina had been there for every fall.  Every knee scrape.  Every sickness.  Every story-time.  _She_ was his mother, Regina thought.  Miss Swan was just the woman who carried him and bore him.  A glorified _fetus sitter_ and _messenger._ Once she delivered her package, she tossed him away.  Regina had been there for Henry ever since.

 

The doorbell’s melodic ring interrupted her thoughts and, with frowns, both she and Henry headed for the foyer. 

 

By swinging the door slowly open, Regina was exposed to the crisp air of the winter night.  Then, a familiar scent assailed her nostrils, and she was surprised to recognize the fragrance as Emma Swan’s shampoo before she acknowledged the woman herself standing before her.

 

She had become an expert at studying the blonde sheriff under the most minimal of seconds.  Waves of luxurious hair was tucked beneath a thick, plaid, fleece scarf in green and red hues, over a plush fur-lined leather jacket above the woman’s usual skin-tight jeans and boots.

 

“Emma!”  A high-pitched cheerful greeting sounded behind Regina, and Henry joyfully bounded forward as if their visitor was an enormous, wrapped present under the damn Christmas tree.  Regina held up her hand, halting his actions before he came too close to the door.  The nerve of Miss Swan to come over unannounced and please Henry in a way that Regina had been hoping to all evening.

 

“Is there a problem, Sheriff Swan?”

 

Emma’s smile at Henry dissipated slightly as she addressed Regina, knowing that she was intruding.  She gave an apologetic lift of a mouth’s corner and explained, “I’m sorry to disturb you, Regina…”

 

“Excuse me?”  The correction was brusque from Regina.  She detected Emma’s jaw tighten and was sure the woman was exerting the utmost effort to keep her eyes from rolling.

 

“Madam _Mayor,”_ Emma cleared her throat.  “As I was saying, there have been some reports of a disturbance in the neighborhood and I am just checking things out before I head home.  Is everything alright here?”

 

“I assure you, Sheriff.  We are all fine here and my house is secure and locked up.”

 

“Well, good.  That’s good to know.”

 

“Aren’t you going to come in, Emma?”

 

Regina’s eyes widened as she turned slowly backward to look at Henry in annoyed surprise.  The young boy met her gaze head on and half implored yet half demanded.  “What?  It’s Christmas Eve!  Mom, she can at least come in for some hot chocolate, or coffee, or some of your _apple stuff_.”  With a lift of his tiny arm in the blue robe over light blue pajamas, he gestured to Regina’s tumbler of apple cider.

 

She heard Emma mutter under her breath, “Been there, done that.”

 

Whipping her attention back to Emma, who straightened seemingly discomfited that she had been heard, Regina witnessed the blonde brace herself for rejection.   Then the brunette mother swiveled her head back to see Henry lift his chin in defiance.  Regina pensively leveled her vision straight ahead and focused on the paint of her front door, blinking and tonguing her bottom lip and she was astonished to find herself saying, “Won’t you come in, Sheriff Swan?”

 

She felt the radiance of her son’s smile before she observed the dumbstruck countenance of the younger woman.  The mouth that normally gave Regina such trouble, was now opening and closing wordlessly under astounded green eyes.

 

“Miss Swan?”  Regina prodded impatiently.  “I won’t be making the offer again.”

 

“Um… yeah… sure.  Thanks.”

 

Regina left Emma to close the door behind her, not willing to let the woman move any closer to Henry than necessary.  She felt more in control to be the one standing between them.  “You may place your dirty boots by the door and hang your coat and scarf in the closet over there.”  Eyeballing a blithesome Henry just waiting to get past her to his _biological_ mother, Regina placed a preventative hand on his shoulder.  “Henry, would you like to get Emma some Christmas cookies?”

 

“Um, okay…”  It was clear the boy wanted to join Emma right away but Regina was adamant in her wishes.  This was _her_ house, _her_ son, and everything was going to happen as she deemed it fit to.

 

After he disappeared behind the swinging door of the kitchen, she allowed herself to observe her guest.  The woman’s nose was still pink from the cold, though her skin creamy and smooth while also tight from the wearing weather outside.  Miss Swan wore very little make-up but Regina concluded that she didn’t seem to need it.  Emma was still pleasing to the eye.

 

“You look absolutely terrible, Sheriff Swan.  Are you coming down with something?”

 

“You’re such a flatterer, Regina.”

 

“I’m sorry, dear.  I meant to _offend_ you.”

 

With a thin smile and a shake of her head, Emma stuck her hands in her back pockets and examined her host.  Though the Mayor was still dressed in business attire, she was in a relaxed state.  Her heels had been discarded, along with her blazer.  The soft blouse’s sleeves were rolled a few times to reveal thin yet strong wrists. 

 

“Well, that’s a pretty tame insult.  I’ve gotten worse coming from you.”  Emma raked her eyes down Regina’s form lingering on Regina’s hips and feet, making Regina feel very self-conscious and aware suddenly.  Regina always found it a bit unnerving, and slightly thrilling, when the Sheriff surveyed her in such a way.  “You look… okay.”

 

The less-than-impressed reaction from the blonde set Regina’s teeth on edge for some reason.  _Okay?_ The brunette knew she was considered beautiful, even in a dressed down state.  Evidently sensing Regina’s displeasure, only made Emma smile brilliantly, as if she had planned it all along to gauge the reaction she would get.  Immediately, Regina felt duped and rigidly set her posture.

 

“Coffee?  Tea?  _Arsenic,_ before you go, Miss Swan?”

 

Emma chuckled under her breath, delighting in how this little visit was turning out.  She had to admit that she loved getting under the Mayor’s skin.

 

“Anything but your cider, Regina.  The last time I drank it,” Emma leaned forward closely, not knowing what possessed her to taunt the dark-haired woman as if her nefarious plans had been foiled that first night they had met and shared some of Regina Mills’ homemade apple cider, “I almost _died.”_

 

The distorted expression only lasted a mere second on Regina’s face before she forced humorless smile.  “Well… we wouldn’t want _that.”_

 

The statement was delivered with such a lack of sincerity that Emma was intrigued enough to come closer.  Like a moth dancing closer to a flame, Emma neared so close she peered into Regina’s eyes and saw the excitement and curiosity in their brown depths.

 

Awareness was prevalent.  Their close proximity.  The feel of the atoms between them bouncing off one another.  They rarely stood so close; so close to reach out and touch.  Shove.  Punch.  _Kiss?_

 

It was a millisecond’s difference from them both having the same thought and they parted instinctively, balking at the turn of their thoughts, while also not ready to acknowledge them.  _No never._

 

“Do you have any wine, Regina?”

 

“Sheriff Swan, I am the mayor.  I have all manner of beverages to entertain with.”

 

“Oh?  Do you entertain with wine often?”

 

Regina smirked and leaned forward again, coyly, and answered, “When the mood strikes.”

 

They were in an unexpectedly provocative eye lock when Henry pushed into the foyer with a plate load of cookies.

 

“Emma!  Come here and let me show you some of my gifts under the tree!”

 

“Yeah, ok kid.”

 

Emma turned back to Regina but the moment between them was gone.  Instead, the woman retreated backward toward the kitchen.

 

“Yes, Miss Swan.  Look at the tree.  Do you prefer red or white wine?”

 

“Depends.  Will you be joining me?”

 

Regina’s mouth stilled while in a gape.  Should she share a drink with Miss Swan?  Seconds later, she gulped and answered, “I think I might.”

 

Flashing dimples at the end of a bright smile disarmed Regina momentarily as the Sheriff insisted before turning on a heel, “Then, whatever you prefer.”  Emma started for the living room but quickly twisted around and said loudly, stopping the brunette as she pushed the kitchen door open.  “And it’s Emma.”

 

“What?”

 

“Call me Emma.”  The sheriff left no room for argument and stepped into the living room with a broad smile on her lips for Henry.

 

Regina bewilderingly frowned while paused in the kitchen doorway.  “Emma,” she tried out quietly and then rolled her eyes.  What the hell was she getting herself in to?

 

 

[X]

 

 

“And this one, I think, is a remote-controlled car!”

 

Henry was kneeling by the flawlessly wrapped presents on the floor of the tree while Emma sat on the couch, taking covert glances towards the doorway and wondering what was keeping Regina.  She speculated what had prompted her to flirt with Henry’s mother.  Sure, they had shared looks of interest before, but not in _this_ kind of overtly sexual manner.  She wasn’t even sure that Regina _swang that way_ and she was pretty sure that no one in Storybrooke had guessed correctly about her sexuality.  Besides, it’s not something someone discloses to their ten-year old biological child who had hunted her down and dragged her back to his hometown, which he claimed was filled with fairytale characters.

 

No matter how alluring she secretly found Regina Mills, Emma could not lose sight of the fact that the woman hated her and wanted her gone from Henry’s life, while all Emma wanted to do was make sure that Henry was okay and happy.  After all, she didn’t spend 9 months taking care of a child, to leave him in the hands of a woman he claimed was the Evil Queen.

 

That first night she had rolled into Storybrooke with Henry Mills, all Emma had wanted to do was drop the kid off and get back to her life in Boston.  It seemed with each passing day, she was becoming even more rooted to this little town where everyone was so friendly, albeit a little mysterious.  The only person who wanted her gone was the one person she secretly was so attracted to.  Regina Mills was just as mysterious as everyone else.  She was also fascinating, complicated, and beautiful.  _Damn it!_

 

“Emma?  Emma!”

 

“What?”

 

Henry stood in front of her studying her. 

 

“You disappeared.  You were here but you weren’t.”

 

“Oh, I’m just thinking.”

 

“About my mom?”  He didn’t wait for an answer.  “Don’t let her _charm_ you!  Remember who she is!”

 

“Henry, that’s enough.  Let’s give this _Evil Queen_ stuff a rest for one night, okay?  So far, she’s been very… accommodating.  She didn’t have to let me in and she didn’t have to leave us alone together.”  Continuing in hushed tones, she reprimanded as if she was his mother too, “So _stop_ it.”

 

His only reply was to sigh and roll his eyes.  “I thought you’d be different.  I thought because you were a woman, you wouldn’t be affected.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Oh, I know my mom’s really pretty.  I also know that _others_ think she’s pretty too.  Like Mr. Glass and some of the other men in town.  I just thought you’d be different and not let her pretty face make you forget stuff too.”

 

Emma’s jaw dropped and she secretly commended the kid for being a lot smarter than she thought.  Of course she wasn’t going to admit that she found his mother wildly attractive.  “I haven’t forgotten anything.”

 

That seemed to appease him and he twisted his mouth up pensively and said, “Just don’t forget who you’re dealing with.”

 

They had been whispering, so Emma felt a little relieved when Regina walked in a moment later.  She held a tray with an open bottle of wine, two filled wine glasses and a mug with a swirl of whip cream topped with cinnamon powder.

 

“The wine needed to breathe for a few minutes.  I am sure you will find the bouquet pleasing, Mis-…I mean, Emma.”

 

The blonde beamed at the woman, bending to place the tray on the coffee table.  She handed Emma a glass and took the other for herself.

 

“Henry, I made you a hot chocolate with cinnamon, the way you like it.” 

 

“Thank you,” he answered but sounded suspicious.

 

Regina, befuddled by having Emma Swan in her home on Christmas Eve with her son, raised her glass in a toast but was at a loss for what to toast to.

 

Emma picked up on the awkwardness but was determined not to let it derail their evening.  She raised her glass and announced the only thing that made sense.  “To Henry.”

 

Over the set smile, Regina’s eyes shuttered out any emotion, for Henry brought her aim back to focus.  He was hers, and only hers.  She watched her son’s eyes dart between them as he held his hot chocolate.  “To Henry.”

 

Before their wine glasses could touch their mouths, Henry cut short their progress with, “Wait!”  Both women froze.  “Uh,” he looked at Emma and asked, “Can I try your wine?”

 

Emma’s eyes widened and she shared a confounded look between him and Regina.  “Um…”

 

“Absolutely _not_ ,” Regina admonished glaring at her son who challenged her with a resolute gaze of his own.  Emma felt like she was a spectator intruding on something very private all of a sudden.  When Henry raised his eyebrow, much like Emma had seen Regina do, she marveled at how alike mother and son actually were.  She might have passed on genetic code to Henry, but it was clear, maybe not so much to him, that he was Regina’s son in a lot of ways.  She even imagined Henry had gotten his obstinate streak from his adoptive mother.

 

His mop of shaggy brown hair fell in his eyes and he brushed it back still in some sort of impasse with his mother and Regina rolled her eyes and held her hand out to Emma.  “Emma, if I may?”

 

Apparently, Regina was requesting her wine glass and Emma handed it over at once in confusion.  When she considered Regina’s eyes, she thought she saw exasperation and something else.  It was very brief.  A flash of something that came and went very quickly and it looked like, hurt.  “What’s the matter?”

 

“Henry thinks I’ve poisoned you, so if you don’t mind?”  Regina didn’t wait for a response, she displayed Emma’s glass up to Henry, took a hearty drag from it and handed it back to Emma.

 

The blonde’s head swiveled to Henry, a baffled look on her face, and she saw that he wore a twisted look of embarrassment and shame.  When her attention fixated on Regina again, Emma was staggered to see Regina downing her own entire glass of wine and, mid-swallow on the last drag, picked up the wine bottle to refill it and Emma’s glass for the stolen sip.

 

Emma stared at her drink awkwardly.  _This family is bananas!_   Taking a small sip of her wine, Emma’s blonde eyebrows furrowed as she reflected on how even though the two people in front of her were a complicated hot mess, she was surprised to find that she was in no hurry to leave them.

 

 

[X]

 

 

After consuming that first bottle of Merlot, a second bottle was opened and by the last third of it, Regina realized she had drunk more than Emma Swan, who appeared to be thoroughly measuring Regina as she sipped from her glass.  Instead of turning away and occupying herself with other things, Regina fixedly pierced her gaze onto Emma, hoping to intimidate her.  The stare’s intensity involuntarily transformed into a sensual smolder.  It was not something the older woman had planned on.  It must have been the wine. 

 

Emma goggled for just a moment in astonishment, but then her gaze turned into one of curiosity.

 

Regina smirked.

 

Emma gaped.

 

Regina leered.

 

Emma squinted.

 

Regina ogled Emma’s torso with shameless lechery.

 

Emma gawked at the flagrant lasciviousness in Regina’s manner and because of her sudden irregular breathing, Emma hiccupped.

 

Regina frowned, instantly disgusted with herself for the direction of her thoughts.  How could she think a hiccup cute?  Or the Sheriff erotically attractive?  No more wine, Regina berated herself.

 

Forcing her attention to her son, sitting opposite them on the floor with an empty mug of hot cocoa, Regina reminded herself that Emma Swan was the enemy.  As Henry’s head, which was propped in his palm, began to grow heavy with sleep, Regina could not help but smile affectionately at him. 

 

The wine prompted a walk down memory lane for the suddenly nostalgic mother.  When he was younger and was panic-stricken by a nightmare, she would bring him a cup of warm milk.  Plumping his pillows next, she would allow him to sit up, watch him sip the frothy drink and tell him stories that her father had told her a long time ago of Princes and Knights.  Soon, Henry would yawn and nod off.  She would remove his mug, tuck him in snugly and place the gentlest of kisses on his brow.

 

Regina cleared her throat, pushing back sentimental tears.

 

“Do you want some help with him?”

 

Emma’s benevolence irked Regina.  Like she was doused with a bucket of ice water, the mother bristled, stung at the idea that she would need Emma Swan’s help at all in regards to Henry.

 

Her facial expression must have displayed her agitation easily, for Emma immediately blanched.  “I just meant if you wanted me to carry him up to bed or something.  Of course, you don’t need my help.  You raised him for 10 years on your own.”

 

For whatever reason, that acknowledgement eased Regina’s rigid posture and bolstered her mood.  She exhaled a long breath, “Thank you, Emma, but I was going to walk my son up to his room.”

 

 _My son._ Just in case the blonde had any maternal ideas or urges.  _Let’s make it very clear just WHO Henry belongs to._

 

Unexpectedly, a smile breached the blonde’s set mouth and her tone was playful.  “Are you sure he’d willingly leave me down here alone with you?  Do you have an _Iron Maiden_ in your basement for torture?”

 

Following her blinking frown, Regina’s lips wordlessly moved.  On a lengthy breath, and as ridiculous as it sounded, Regina concluded that Emma had a point.  If she woke Henry up now, he might not be so keen on abandoning his new-found _hero_ so quickly.

 

One look at the blonde’s knowing grin, and Regina understood that Emma must have sensed her waning on the subject.  It was on the tip of her tongue to refuse, but Emma seemed to sense it, for she placed her wine glass on the table and rose from the couch.  Though Regina pretended nonchalance, out of the corner of her eye she was tracking every movement the younger woman made; from a little stretch of her back to the extension of her arms outward, like Emma was preparing them for a heavy burden.  Regina even caught the gladdened crinkle at the corner of the Sheriff’s eyes and the upturned ends of the woman’s lips, giving birth to widely cut dimples that were meant to enchant and bedazzle some, but infuriated Regina for at once even noticing them.

 

With little effort, Emma bent over and picked Henry up in her arms.  The child never stirred as she hauled him out of the living room and toward the stairs.

 

Rethinking on it, in addition to becoming heatedly unsettled at watching Emma Swan perform so vigorously to the task, Regina amended, “Perhaps we should just wake and walk him up.  No one carries a ten year old.”

 

“No.  It’s okay.  I got this.”  They took the stairs one-by-one and Regina did begin to worry.

 

“Just don’t drop him.  And be mindful of his head,” Regina cautioned from behind Emma, constantly looking from side to side to make sure Emma was clearing any objects that might be a danger to her comfortably sleeping son.

 

“Regina, I _got_ this.”  Emma even looked over her shoulder and when the action clearly made the older woman nervous, the blonde could not hide her smile.  She was sorely tempted to fumble the boy in her arms as a joke but thought better of it.  The woman was already entrusting her with so much.  “Besides, he’s light for ten.”

 

They were close to the second landing when Regina snorted and quipped, “Oh?  Tote lots of children over your shoulder in the _bails bondsperson_ business?”

 

“How is it that you are so _good_ at adding just the right amount of mockery and contempt in nearly everything that comes out of your mouth?”

 

“It’s a skill, really.”

 

“Uh huh,” Emma entered the hallway and joked, “… and where did you hone the aptitude for it?  _Snobbery U?”_

 

Regina’s eyes dropped as they slowly walked and, before she could stop herself, she revealed just a little bit of truth.  “Where I come from, I learned to be very guarded, even at an early age.”

 

“Hmm… _Spurn_ first or be _spurned?”_   Emma paused looking around at all the closed doors.  The walls and doors were painted an off-white.  This hallway was perfect for family photos hanging on the wall, and yet there were none.

 

“Something like that,” the Mayor said in a low almost hushed voice that pinged Emma’s inquisitive nature.  Emma had also learned to be somewhat guarded and not trust easily herself as a child.  She found herself relating to the fleeting sadness she heard in those three words that had dropped from Regina’s lips and had wanted to ask the enigmatic brunette about it, however, Henry was starting to get heavy now.

 

“Um… where am I going?”

 

“The second door on the left.  Here, let me…”

 

The next thing Emma knew, was Regina had slipped between her and the closed door.  The woman’s front brushed against the back of her upper arm and had left a trail of fire in its wake, making Emma increasingly aware of the Mayor’s shapely, lithe body.  Regina curved around Emma to grasp the doorknob, and Emma encountered Regina’s unique scent, which was a superlative blend of woman, City Hall and apples.

 

“Is something funny, Sheriff Swan?”  Regina heard Emma chuckle under her breath as she carried Henry into the room.

 

“I was just thinking.”

 

“Well, that can’t be good.”

 

“About the way you smell.”  Regina was cleaning off Henry’s bed as quickly as possible, but that stopped her and she whirled around in surprise.  She was clearly shocked.  Nothing about this evening was typical in how she and Sheriff Swan conducted themselves.

 

“I would be very careful with your next set of words if I were you, Sheriff.”

 

Emma placed Henry down on the mattress and covered his body with the sheets that Regina pulled back, a small up-tilt to her lips.  “Well… you don’t stink.”

 

Brown eyes stared in disbelief over parted lips and under a vertically creased forehead.  Spurred into action suddenly, after spotting the blonde’s unwelcome advances with Henry, Regina moved forward nearly elbowing Emma out of the way.  “I can tuck my own son in, thank you very much,” Regina protested, taking over and enfolding Henry inside the soft duvet.  Brushing his bangs away and tenderly running her knuckles down his cheek, Regina bent, closed her eyes and breathed him in before she pressed her lips against his warm forehead gently.

 

Emma scrutinized the scene in front of her and wondered whether she had misunderstood the woman in front of her.  She could see the love for Henry.  Why was Henry so eager to reveal some evil dark side about this woman?  She and Regina had clashed with their differences, surely, and had gotten into the most heated fights, but could Emma have had it wrong about the brunette in front of her? 

 

No.  Her Super Power was reliable and Emma would bet her precious bug that Regina Mills was not being completely truthful with who she was.

 

When Regina faced Emma, her eyes were devoid of any lingering tenderness displayed just a moment ago and instead there was an austere look.  The order was clear as Regina lifted a palm outward toward the door.  “After you, Miss Swan.”

 

Emma left the room with just one last peek at Henry.  As soon as they returned downstairs, Emma imagined that Regina would expect her quick departure, but Emma wanted to stay a little longer.  She had witnessed Regina with her defenses down tonight and though the woman’s gait was still a bit stern, Emma felt she could get the woman to open up as she never had before.  What could hurt in trying?  What’s the worst that could happen?  Regina could get mad?  The woman seemed perpetually angry with her anyway.

 

Without waiting, Emma padded back into the living room, picked up the wine and filled Regina’s glass and her own to equal levels, emptying the bottle all at once.  She dared not look toward Regina, until she had comfortably sat.  Ready to engage the woman in more conversation, Emma aimed her most charming smile, dimples and all.

 

Regina regarded the woman in front of her a lot like she would a basket of vipers.  The blonde challenged her with an alluring gleam, displayed in her smile and eyes the shade of warm jade.  Switching her glass from one hand to the other, Emma reached over and offered Regina’s up to her.

 

“It would be a shame to waste such delicious wine.”

 

Regina should be urging her new sheriff to leave but instead, she found herself capturing the glass and sitting on the next cushion over.  As they sipped simultaneously, their eyes never broke contact.

 

“So.”  The flat base of Emma’s glass sat on the side of her thigh while Regina’s met the palm of a hand.  The brunette then lifted it back up and swirled the contents smoothly.  “Tell me your favorite Christmas memory with Henry.”

 

Eyes flashing and then squinting in suspicion, Regina pinned Emma with a charry stare.

 

“Or not,” rectified Emma with a rueful smile.  “How about _any_ Christmas memory at all?”

 

Though a shadow of reluctance crossed the older woman’s features, she stared at the fireplace and surprised Emma by revealing, “My family did not celebrate Christmas.  My mother never cared for the holiday.”

 

Gaping, Emma also directed a shocked gaze at the roaring fire.  Even in the worst _shithole_ Emma spent time in while growing up, there was a Christmas tree, mostly for the social workers to see, and each kid got a gift, even it was a boring pair of gloves or a cheap coloring book with 4 crayons.

 

Emma wasn’t very festive during the holidays either but she acknowledged that they were important to others and silently appreciated the decorations that went up.  Even though she wasn’t brimming with Holiday spirit in early adulthood, she hadn’t been a _Scrooge_ either.

 

“What did your mother not like about it?”

 

A sullen expression gave way to a tight smile.  “I surely can’t say, Miss Swan.  I rarely questioned her decisions on anything.  To do so came with dire consequences.”

 

“What did she do?  Take you down to the basement and give you a thousand lashes?”

 

It was a stab at humor, and Emma watched contemplation give way to a small smile upon red lips that wisecracked, “Not on your first offense.”

 

Emma snapped her back in joyful surprise.  _Was that a joke?_ Did Regina Mills just joke with her? 

 

“Some of the homes I lived in were pretty rough when it came to disciplining.  But your mom sounds like a real _ballbuster.”_

 

“Let’s just say my mother was never challenged _.”_

 

“Wow!  Did she and Henry ever meet?”

 

“No.”  The reply was quiet and Emma had detected a tone of thankfulness or relief in it.

 

“Is she still alive?”

 

“Let’s talk about you, Miss-, _Emma.”_  The blonde gave another smile of pleasure at Regina using her first name.

 

“What was your favorite Christmas memory?”  Regina sipped her wine slowly, giving Emma some time to think about it.

 

“I don’t really have one either.  I mean,” Emma paused her wineglass halfway to her lips, then drank and continued.  “I celebrated in the different places I was in for the most part.  But when you’re living in children’s homes and foster homes, everything is _temporary._   You may get practical gifts like clothes and if you ever did get something of value, say, a toy… well, you’re lucky if it doesn’t get stolen or lost after a few weeks.”

 

The mayor sat and listened with an unreadable expression on her face, but Emma sensed that Regina was not judging her.  If there was a snarky comment the woman wanted to mock her with, Regina would have done so already.  Oddly, the Mayor seemed mildly interested to hear more.

 

“One year, came close to being the best.  I was with this family as a teenager.  I had only been with them a few months and had one of the best Thanksgivings I could ever remember having.”  Slowly the happy glow Emma wore fled and was replaced by disquietude.  “They had a son who came home for Christmas break during his first year of college, and well…”  Emma tilted her head and offhandedly remarked, “…he took an _interest_ in me.”

 

Regina blinked and her eyes darted around the room before she became horrified at Emma’s implication.  “He _forced_ himself on you?”

 

“He tried.  I whacked him with a tennis racket and broke his nose.”

 

Regina’s lips parted and she almost smiled in approval until she remembered with whom she was speaking with.  “I take it your foster parents didn’t like that.”

 

“No.  I was gone before I could even explain what happened.  He made up some bullshit story that I had a crush on him, tried to push myself on him and became violent when he refused me.”

 

”And they believed him over you?”

 

“He _was_ their son.”

 

“He was an adult, Emma.  You were a _child.”_ Because old wounds threatened to resurface, Regina occupied herself with a gulp of Merlot, pushing down the weighty sensation rising up from her chest into her throat.  Regina knew all too well, how it felt having a man make sexual expectations of you and feeling like you were robbed of any a choice in the matter.  That Emma Swan might have been even younger an adolescent was upsetting, no matter who the woman was now.

 

“Well, thank goodness nothing happened, and I know girls in the system who had gone through a lot worse.  I’m glad to have been transferred out of there, but… that was _almost_ the best Holidays I had ever had.”

 

“You should have reported him.”

 

Emma had expected Regina remark to be dripping with censure but strangely it was sympathetic.  Emma blushed and replied, “Yeah, I know that _now._ But when you are that young and a scared orphan having no one there to support you, you make different decisions that aren’t always the smartest.”

 

She found it odd, but Emma was somehow comforted by Regina’s current disposition.  The woman was amiable, understanding even, and Emma wished they could be like this all the time.  They sat in companionably silence, enjoying the wine, the fire and strangely the company in which to share those things with.

 

“So when did you get into Christmas then, Regina?”

 

Emma made a sweep with her wineglass at all the decorations: the gorgeously decorated Christmas tree, the garland and candles on the mantle and the huge wreath hung on the wall above the fireplace.  Regina felt cheer bubble in her middle and answered, “The year I brought Henry home was the first Christmas I had ever celebrated.  I was in a store and I bought him this little red-and-white striped baby bodysuit that made him look like a chubby candy cane.”  Her light chuckles matched Emma’s as they amused themselves with that image.  “I added a little Santa hat with holly embroidered on the brim.”

 

“I wish I could have seen that.”

 

Much to Emma’s astonishment, Regina’s glass made a sound when she placed it on the table and stood, remarking, “I think I _have_ a picture somewhere.”

 

“Really?”  Emma tried to contain her excitement but it spilled onto her lips.  She never saw Henry as a baby, had declined to see him when the doctor had asked, knowing it would be that much harder to give him up.

 

“Yes.  Here… somewhere.”

 

Regina walked over to the armoire against the wall, opened the cabinet doors and got on her hands and knees to retrieve something and Emma was afforded a rather appealing view while she did.  Immediately turning her gaze away, Emma chastised herself for her wayward lustful thoughts.  She seriously needed to stop fantasizing about Mayor Regina Mills.  The woman was Henry’s mother and her _boss._ Emma would do well to remember those facts.

 

“Aha!”

 

Taking out a brown leather photo binder, Regina ambled toward the sofa with the brightest smile that Emma was sure she had ever seen, and it touched her knowing that it was because of Henry.  That this woman so intensely loved the child that she had brought into this world, made her feel even more connected to Regina somehow.  Like they were destined to meet.  With a frown, Emma was jarred slightly as the couch dipped right beside her to accommodate Regina’s weight.  Emma tried to focus on the open photo album resting on her knee, its pages turning, instead of the warmth she could feel from Regina’s body sitting so closely and the intoxication of the Regina’s scent, now mingled with red wine, assailing Emma’s senses.

 

Regina turned page after page until she got to the photo they were discussing.  As soon as Emma’s green eyes laid upon the chubby baby with the rounded, pinchable cheeks and the soft, tiny tuft of brown hair peeking out from under the Santa hat, her heart clenched tightly and she was unable to breathe for a few seconds.  Baby Henry had a happy smile on his face, well behind the fist he was trying to either chew off or stick wholly into his mouth.  The kid’s eyes were sparkling and Emma was, all at once, delightfully aware that before her was a picture of the most adorable baby that she had ever laid eyes on, and that she _made_ that baby.  He came from her womb.  She was partly responsible for the cutest baby to ever wear a candy cane outfit and a Christmas hat.

 

“Awww, he’s…”  Her voice trailed off and Emma couldn’t talk because she was too busy sniffling as tears rolled down her face.  Shouldn’t there be some statute of limitation on Maternal Tears?  One last long sniffle and a sigh later, Emma forced herself to control her emotions.  She and Regina were on shaky ground as it was.  She didn’t want to antagonize the woman with her blubbering.  Was she expecting her period soon?  Maybe she was hormonal.  “He’s beautiful.”

 

Regina witnessed Emma’s emotional reaction with wonder at first, then angst that turned quickly into agitation, and then unfathomable sympathy.  Maybe Regina really had drunk too much wine.  She stared down at her adorable son with his chubby little fist and the wrinkle between it and that part of his forearm that disappeared into the silly candy cane sleeve.  She had experienced such joy with Henry and this woman was crying at the sight of the gift she had created.  If it had not been for this woman, she would have never had Henry to begin with and in that moment, she insanely felt she _owed_ Emma Swan something.  “He has your chin.”  Regina frowned in shock, staring down at her son, and slapped herself inwardly when she added, “And your eyes.”

 

Not being able to explain her actions and not baring to see the look of grateful wonder on Emma Swan’s face, most likely displayed by that enticing parting of lips and flecks of green in those haunting eyes that sparkled enchantingly, Regina brought her glass to her lips and took another huge gulp.

 

Emma thanked her, her words were spoken softly but they were heard and registered with Regina.  The blonde looked back at the photo album in her lap and her fingers traced the face through the glossy plastic film, as if branding the image into her memory.  “Thank you, Regina for sharing this with me.”

 

As if jolted by the chill of icy water rolling down her back, Regina awakened from her lapse of stupidity.  “This will be _all_ I share with you, Em-, _Miss Swan!”_

 

Downing the contents of her glass, Regina rose up and nearly fell over again with the amount of alcohol she had consumed.  Emma was up like a shot, had managed to lay the picture album beside her, set her glass down on the table and was at Regina’s side a hand around her lower back and another on the brunette’s crooked elbow.

 

“Unhand me this instant!”

 

The slightly shorter woman in her arms was surly and drunk, and had it not been for Regina’s state of inebriation, Emma might have been thrilled.  She liked a little sass in a woman.  However, she calmly smiled and simply stated.  “I would rethink that order if I were you, Mayor Mills.  It seems that I am all that’s between you and nasty fall.”

 

“You are so smug, Sheriff.”

 

Despite Regina’s comeback, she didn’t seem to mind still leaning against Emma for some stability and Emma enjoyed having the woman in a halfway hug.  She imagined that if this was a full on embrace, she would wish that Regina could be sober to experience it.

 

“I’m honestly not trying to be smug.”  Emma smiled and chortled happily when she held Regina tighter up against her.  “As a matter of fact, I’d like to amend my answer.”

 

“What answer?”

 

“I think _this_ is my new favorite Christmas memory.  Without knowing it, you gave me a gift, Regina.  You invited me in and gave me a warm place to stay on Christmas Eve with a real family.  You offered me good wine, conversation and company.”  Emma’s eyes almost misted at the thought but she reined herself in.  “And you shared something very special with me.  Something that means more to me than anything ever could.”

 

Regina just blinked at the woman staring back at her.  A woman who was standing very close with thin-void-of-lipstick lips that begged to be touched.  Emma’s smile disappeared and she seemed to be waiting as she stared at Regina’s mouth.  The Mayor nearly forgot herself when she moved and their lips hovered close.  Their wine-scented breaths mingled.  Their pupils dilated.  Their chests heaved. 

 

They moved closer and Regina’s lips parted intending to seize Emma’s and claim that mouth, but her eyes widened all of a sudden and she moved backward.  This couldn’t be happening.  Regina had plans, goals and the only way they involved Emma Swan was by getting rid of her.  Why couldn’t the woman just leave already?

 

Gulping down her foolishness at almost ruining things and resenting the woman for always interfering with her plans, Regina menacingly narrowed her eyes and demanded, “Get out!”

 

She watched as Emma pondered her next move and the possibility dawned on her that the blonde might kiss her, just to taste temptation and be brave where Regina wasn’t. 

 

Emma sighed regretfully at Regina’s lips and backed away.  “Thanks for your hospitality, _Mayor Mills._   I will show myself out.”

 

As Emma walked past her, they brushed and Regina lost her balance and fell sitting on the couch.  When she swiveled her gaze to the doorway, Emma had already walked through it.  Regina heard a brief rustling out in the foyer and then the front door opened and closed.

 

_Oh my God!_

 

Regina was beside herself.  She dragged her palms and fingers down her face in disbelief.  She could have destroyed everything.  Desperately, she needed to keep Miss Swan out of her home and out of her and Henry’s lives.  She had to get a handle on this before it all spiraled out of control.  She cannot _feel_ anything for the woman.  She won’t!

 

Shaking her head, Regina picked up the bottle of wine and angrily slammed it back down.  Secrets.  Her life was filled with secrets.  Now she had a two more to add to the already pile.  No one could know that she almost kissed Emma Swan tonight, and absolutely _no one_ could know how much she desperately wanted to.

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews and comments are appreciated! Thanks for reading!
> 
>  **Tumblr:** juicecupswanqueen


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